


Take My Hand, Beneath the Stars

by ApicalMeristematic



Category: Little Witch Academia
Genre: F/F, Minor OC involvement, Pining, akko tries hard to help, croix overcomplicates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-10-26 05:31:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17739929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApicalMeristematic/pseuds/ApicalMeristematic
Summary: Ursula's no fan of extravagant parties, but when her most disaster-prone pupil is set to be one of the honoured attendees, she finds herself reluctant to decline the invitation. A certain encounter, however, has the potential to make the night far more bearable than anticipated.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> another extremely self-indulgent piece from yours truly yeehaw

It was routine procedure now for Chariot to receive word that she was to come to the headmistress' office at the earliest moment of convenience, ever since she had taken under her wing the most impressively disastrous pupil ever to set foot in the hallways of Luna Nova. Of course, incidents involving the rather unfortunate young witch were much rarer late into the second year of her studies, what with the striding improvements she'd made since the dramatic revival of Yggdrasil, but well, Atsuko Kagari was still Atsuko Kagari after all.

She was quite surprised then, upon pushing open the heavy oaken door, to not see the familiar young face pouting before the headmistress and a stern-faced Finnelan. The latter two were both present, but Holbrooke looked to be in a pleasant mood, while Finnelan… did not, but well, that was par for the course.

“Ah, Professor Ursula!” The headmistress called, jovially waving for her to come over. Hesitantly, Chariot obliged, already wary of the situation.

“Y-You requested for me?”

“Yes, of course! Anne and I were discussing some matters of importance, and there’s a certain _matter_ we’d like to ask of you.”

Ah, of course, Chariot thought, resignation already wearily seeping its way into her hesitant smile. Another errand to run. She ought to have figured.

“On the contrary, you decided this entirely for yourself. Over my objections.” Finnelan said, looking quite exasperated. Holbrooke didn't seem to hear her as she cheerily continued.

“Appleton will be hosting a ball this Sunday, a celebration of improved relations with witchcraft since the last year! They've sent an invite for a Luna Nova delegate.” Holbrooke's smile became downright sunny. “We thought you would make a perfect candidate for such.”

Finnelan’s dour expression indicated that she thought quite the contrary, but Chariot had to take a pause, a few moments passing before she realized just what was being asked of her.

“E-Eh??” She sputtered, hands flying upwards to her mouth. “M-Me!? I-I don't- headmistress, I-I don't think I would make… a very good-”

“Please don't panic, Professor Ursula, you won't be alone. Anne has volunteered to accompany you, so there's no need to feel too much pressure.”

“I… er…”

Chariot glanced nervously over toward Finnelan, whose expression had undergone little change throughout the entire discussion thus far. She could swear she saw one of her eyebrows twitch though, causing the younger woman to nervously swallow. Was Holbrooke expecting her to find that reassuring? The very idea of having to spend an entire evening under the scrutiny of her stern senior colleague was making her break out into a cold sweat.

“W-Wait, this… this is all very sudden,” she stuttered. “I… thought we were on bad terms with Appleton?”

“Oh my, you really must keep up with the news more my dear!” Holbrooke gave an elegant flick of her wand, a display shimmering to life behind her as dozens of articles began to materialize in a faint green glow. “Ever since the revival of Yggadrasil, public opinion of magic has turned on its head! Even Appleton isn't willing to hold so tightly onto past prejudices while the rest of the world shifts. And given that our own students were responsible for this change, Luna Nova’s reputation has never been better. This rivals even the days of the Golden Age, it does!”

“A-Ah… I see…”

“And, because of that,” Holbrooke continued, her smile widening further, “who better to represent us then than those very young witches in question?”

Chariot blinked, the realization clicking in her head. “Wait, does that mean…”

“Yes, I’ve sent the invites to the girls as well. I imagine they'll all have a lovely time with you there to chaperone them.”

“Headmistress, I feel that I must stress another time, that things can and do _consistently_ go wrong when this particular bunch get involved.” Finnelan interjected now, her expression less irritated than Chariot had expected, and more so a certain degree of… weary. “Are you absolutely sure of this?”

Much as Chariot would hate to agree with that evaluation, it was hard to argue otherwise. Akko luck (or lack of it) in particular was starting to reach a legendary status among her peers. Holbrooke however merely gave a nonchalant wave of her hand, the smile never dipping off her face for a second.

“Oh come now, Finnelan, those children are the usherers of a new era! I'd say they earned this, wouldn't you?”

Finnelan looked very much like she wanted to disagree, but said nothing, only heaving an exhausted huff as she crossed her arms. Chariot had the feeling that she'd already voiced her arguments to the contrary earlier without avail, and was now simply resigned to the fact that she would not be changing Holbrooke's mind.

“I-I still don't see why send me though…” she said, anxiously wringing her hands.”Surely you'd rather have someone more… suitable…?”

“Come now, Professor Ursula, you were also involved weren't you? You had no small part in aiding them, it's only fair you be there as well.”

Then Holbrooke’s eyes gained a bit of a twinkle, her smile becoming a little more… playful?

“Besides, it wouldn't hurt to have a pretty young face represent our school for once, wouldn't it?”

“H-Headmistress!!”

Her face became beet red as Holbrooke chortled and Finnelan sighed, again.

“Well, I think that's all there is to say about that. So, Professor Ursula? Is that a yes or a no?”

Chariot made a high-pitched noise, still very much frazzled, her initial intent to scramble for any excuse as to why she wouldn't be able to attend. But faced with Holbrooke’s expectant smile and the very thought of Akko present at an aristocratic event without adequate supervision, it only took so long before she caved.

“V-Very well, headmistress, if you're so sure…”

“Excellent!” Holbrooke clapped her hands together with glee. “Then that’s settled!”

Two minutes later, the young professor gloomily exited the room with an invitation in hand, looking anything but enthused for the upcoming event. Finnelan waited until the door had clicked shut behind her before turning to her amicable superior with arms still crossed and a disapproving frown.

“You didn't tell her the real reason.”

Holbrooke’s pleasant smile didn't shift so much a millimeter as she interlaced her fingers in front of her face.

“She’ll find out when she gets there, no? It will be a pleasant surprise for her I hope.”

Finnelan groaned as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I never took you for such a meddler, Headmistress.”

“My my, Anne, there's nothing wrong with the occasional intervention. And after all, even you have lately lamented that she's been staring off into space and sighing a lot recently, no?”

“Only because she’ll tune out in the middle of conversation to do so.” Finnelan grumbled in exasperation. “I can't believe you convinced the East Mogiana Ministry to allow this.”

“Dorlin is a reasonable woman if you know how to negotiate with her. Now cheer up Anne! Ah, the joys of youth! Can you think of anything more wonderful?”

Yes, Finnelan wished to reply, but the effort, she acknowledged, was a fruitless one. So instead she groaned and hoped to the Nine Olde that nothing catastrophic would come of this affair.

* * *

 

“Isn't this so cool, Professor? I've never been to one of these fancy parties bef- well okay I have, but this is the first time I've actually been invited!”

“A-Ah, well, I'm glad you're enjoying it then.”

Chariot managed to smile weakly but genuinely at her student, who was currently working her way through a heaping pile of desserts balanced dangerously upon her plate. Akko seemed cheerily oblivious to her precarious situation, ramming another forkful of cake into her mouth as she continued to chatter excitedly to her mentor.

Appleton’s main ballroom was as vast and lavishly furnished as one would expect for the country’s most prestigious boy’s academy. It was all certainly very… nice, she supposed, but to be frank, she had never found herself very comfortable within such upper class gatherings. There was something subtly oppressive about the atmosphere, an unspoken code of conduct to which the rules were entirely foreign to her.

“Ah!” Akko exclaimed, loudly, with her mouth still full, earning her a gentle (and mildly flustered) reprimand from her mentor. The young witch chuckled apologetically before diverting her gaze back toward whatever it was that had caught her attention.

“Sorry professor, I just noticed that Diana and Andrew are glaring at each other again. I'm gonna go see what's up with them.”

“Ah alright. R-Remember where we are Akko, don't forget your manners!”

Her student beamed a megawatt grin as she inhaled another bite of pie, cheekily quipping that she was acting “more like a mom than usual” before prancing off in the direction of her friends. Chariot felt her heart rate spike sharply as Akko nearly tumbled headlong into a gentleman while she waved her goodbye, breathing a hefty sigh of relief when the girl swerved at the last second, narrowly avoiding collision with him and his very expensive looking suit by a hair's width.

Now that the girl was gone, Chariot couldn't help but feel even more discomforted by her situation. What was one even supposed to do at these lavish parties anyhow? She felt out of place not having anyone to exchange idle chatter, but neither did she feel like approaching anyone either. More and more, she wondered how on earth the Headmistress had considered her to be a suitable candidate for this endeavour; surely any other member of the faculty would have been more suitable to “uphold Luna Nova's prestigious image”? And it seemed that any time she did get approached, it was always because of-

“Good evening to you, Miss. Might I know your name?”

Oh, here was another one.

Chariot fought the urge to fiddle with the strap of her dress, one of the few things she owned that looked at least acceptable enough to wear to tonight's juncture. She managed a nervous smile at the well-dressed man that was now striking up conversation with her, a Duke of something or another? The name had passed her entirely in a brief moment of panic and she tried to politely endure his gestures of evident interest, his words all but passing over her head as she struggled to maintain eye contact.

“The next song will be coming up soon, would you perhaps care for a dance with me?”

“I…”

Her eyes darted frantically across the room, catching sight of Finnelan near the refreshments table speaking very sternly to an exasperated-looking Amanda O’ Neill, and she saw her chance to escape.

“M-My apologies! It seems that my colleague is calling for me! Ah, p-perhaps later, goodbye.”

 _Perhaps never,_ Chariot thought, swiftly skirting around him before he could respond, keeping her eyes low so she wouldn't catch sight of his expression as she left. She caught up with Finnelan just as she dismissed Amanda, the suit-clad girl rolling her eyes as she grudgingly sulked away.

“By the Nine, that child, I _swear_ …”

Whatever Finnelan had been about to mutter beneath her breath, she stopped upon seeing Chariot approach, her frown deepening at the sight of her younger colleague's sheepish wave of a greeting.

“Professor Ursula.” She placed her hands sternly on her hips, a gesture that all too often made Chariot feel like she was a student again, about to receive a sharp reprimand. “So, inform me, which young man are you taking refuge from this time?”

Chariot laughed nervously, her hands twisting together behind her back, a little bashful at how easily her intentions had been read.

“Well I… er… thought you might have needed a hand with Amanda?”

Finnelan's unamused expression said all that was needed as to how much she really believed that blatant fib. Still, her glare seemed to soften somewhat as Chariot continued to squirm nervously under her hardened gaze, and she crossed her gloved arms with a sigh of resignation.

“Is it really so agonizing to tolerate their attentions for only a night? It's simply the nature of ballroom etiquette.”

“Even so, I… really can't stand it.” Chariot mumbled sullenly. “Dancing seems too intimate to partake in with unknown strangers.”

“Are you sure it isn’t because they're simply not to your tastes?” Finnelan asked, drily raising an eyebrow as her junior's complexion took on a faint dusting of pink.

“T-That… erm…”

“Spare me, Professor Callistis. I’m all too aware of with whom your true affections lie.”

To that, Chariot was rendered speechless, and if her face had been coated with a blush before, it darkened to a much brighter shade of cherry red now. Mercifully, Finnelan’s austere gaze lightened as she watched her floundering and she held up a hand before Chariot could find the words to contest her previous statement.

“Either way, if it makes you uneasy, I will not push you. You can accompany me awhile if it makes you feel more comfortable.”

Chariot blinked at her with surprise. “R-Really? You wouldn’t mind?”

Finnelan sighed again, albeit without its usual bite of disapproval.

“I was intending to speak to Lord Hanbridge soon; your potential admirers would likely be discouraged from interrupting such a conversation. For the better perhaps; it might cast a poor impression on Luna Nova if too many young men left the ball dejected tonight.

Abashed, Chariot could only respond with a apologetic chuckle. When she looked up though, Finnelan had suddenly stiffened, looking past her shoulder with an odd expression. Confused, she turned her head but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Just the same unfamiliar masses of well-dressed bluebloods engaging in polite and mannered conversation, as before.

“Professor Finnelan?”

Her senior colleague jolted back to attention, the puzzling expression yet to leave her face, having now redirected it towards Chariot instead. She looked as if she were deliberating briefly with herself before finally shaking her head in annoyance, much to Chariot’s further bewilderment.

“No, nevermind. Let’s go.”

With that, Finnelan briskly strode off towards the other end of the room, where the elder Hanbridge was located amongst a small score of guests. Still baffled by the odd behaviour, Chariot only had time to cast a brief glance backwards once more, puzzled as to who or what it was the older professor had seen, before the strange occurrence would slip her mind as she hurried in the wake of her colleague.

* * *

 

“Meridies, did you honestly even _try?_ ”

Croix feigned innocence, badly, as she faced her exasperated parole officer with a sullen expression.

“Why yes, I very much did, Mark. Are you going to be whimpering about it all night?”

“Don’t give me that nonsense. You just didn't bother with an effort, did you?”

He was speaking of course about the state of her tie, which looked as if it had been very incorrectly knotted, and with great lack of care. Coupled with her slightly oversized Ministry-issued uniform, she looked decidedly out of place amongst the well-dressed attendees of the ball around, even compared to the other security detail on scene.

“You can’t prove that,” she grumbled, shoving her hands deeper into the large pockets of her borrowed navy-blue robe. He wasn't wrong, she'd give him that. She'd been forced into too many stuffy dinner parties and award ceremonies to not come away from it all with an intimate understanding of how one was expected to present themselves at such proceedings. Her refusal to fix her appearance had little to do with ability, so much as it did with motivation.

“Please, it’s _atrocious_. Can you not at least straighten it out? Just a bit?”

Mark’s request was just short of an outright plea, which did grant her a small and admittedly petty sliver of satisfaction. This she didn't give away, careful not to let her expression of dry disdain slip from control.

“Do it yourself if it matters so much,” she muttered, knowing full-well he’d sooner swallow his wand whole.

“I don’t understand why you feel the need to be so difficult, Meridies.” Mark groaned, agitatedly adjusting his square glasses. “Might I remind you that the only reason you are out of prison, is because the Ministry quite _generously_ offered you early parole on the conditions you provide assistance for the occasions you're called upon?”

“Yes, and I fail to see why that includes converting me into a glorified _security guard_.” Croix gestured frustratedly towards the Ministry members standing near the other entrances and around the perimeter of the room. “You have a small militia gathered already, for what reason do you need me here?!”

Her parole officer sighed, again. He did that an awful lot it seemed, when it came to having to deal with her.

“If I’m being frank, I’d have to agree with you. It’s certainly not worth having to put up with your petulance, but Minister Dorlin was inexplicably insistent on having you here tonight. I certainly don’t have the authority to contest her decisions, however much I wish I do now.”

“Yes well, in that case, looks like neither of us get to have what we want, do we?”

Mark pinched the bridge of his nose, looking like he wanted to fling himself off the nearest available balcony.

“You only need to remain here for a few hours. Could you at least make it as painless as possible for us both?”

“No promises,” she grunted, but grudgingly resigned herself to her situation with an irritated huff. There was only so much satisfaction she could derive from wearing her parole officer’s patience down to ever-thinning levels. Sullenly, she looked out over the crowd before her, bitterly disdainful of the event that had summoned her from her travels, pulling her from her coveted research into the intricacies of Wagandea’s curse. Such high brow events had never impressed her anyway; an elegant waste of time and resources, a gathering for the richest in dollars and stupidest in-

_Wait._

It was a bit of a mystery how Croix had noticed at all the spot of dull navy in a sea of far brighter colours, but she felt her throat tighten as her gaze settled. No, that couldn’t be right, could it? There wasn’t any reason for _her_ to be here-

But then she spied the unmistakable figure of Finnelan close by, not immediately recognizable in her dark purple ball gown, but her trademark frown of disapproval remained as distinct as ever. And well, in that case, there was no question now the identity of the younger woman in her company, mercifully facing the opposite direction of where Croix was standing as she came to grips with her present reality.

By the Nine, of all people, why the hell was Chariot here?!

Suddenly feeling all too visible, Croix took a few steps backwards, nervously edging her way closer to the entrance she and Mark were standing by. The entire time she kept her eyes on Chariot, who still had not looked her way, her body language appearing rather flustered as she spoke to Finnelan. In the back of her mind, Croix wondered why it was that Chariot’s hair was blue now; after all, last she’d seen of her when they’d parted ways at the leyline, her old friend seemed to have been comfortable with keeping it in its natural scarlet hue again. Still, finding out would require talking to her, and the last thing she wanted at the moment was for Chariot to know of her presence in the room.

Mark looked at her wearily as she slunk towards the wall, looking unenthused at the prospect of having to ask her what she was up to, but seemed to begrudgingly summon the willpower for it anyways.

“Do I dare question what you’re doing now?”

When Croix didn’t answer, gaze still nervously fixated on the woman standing only a dozen or so meters away, Mark frowned and turned to look at what had so intensely captivated her attention.

“Hm? That woman… isn’t she the one who saw you off when we took you into custody? Ah, yes, they did send for delegates from Luna Nova after all.” He looked mildly concerned now as he turned back to Croix and noticed that she’d become as pale as the wall she was pressing herself against. “...I was going to ask if you wanted to greet her, but you don’t strike me as being particularly eager to do so.”

Croix's first thought was to conjure a snippy retort, if only to disguise her own blatant distress. But it was at that moment that Finnelan caught sight of her, her notice appearing to have attracted Chariot’s attention as well. In a moment of panic, Croix pulled up her hood and turned around, taking a step behind Mark for good measure as he sputtered at her in bewilderment.

“Meridies, what are you doing!?”

“Shut up, pretend like I’m not here!” She hissed, her hands clamming as they tugged her hood down further. “Is she looking this way?”

“Well she did for a second, but not anymore.” He shook his head disbelievingly, looking like he deeply regretted his choice of career for not the first time that night. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but can you at least be an adult about it?”

“Just tell me when she leaves,” Croix whispered, patently ignoring the latter half of his sentence as she nervously kneaded the fabric of her uniform between her fingers.

“Well, she’s walking away now, if that’s what you were waiting for.” He looked decidedly unimpressed with her as she warily trudged back into the open, glancing nervously towards where she had seen Chariot standing last. “Would you care to explain what that was all about?”

“Is it any of your business?” She grunted, irreverent once again now that the danger had passed, and none too pleased that Mark had gotten to see her acting like a complete idiot.

“If it gives people the impression that the Ministry hires utter buffoons, then yes.” He shot back, equally as irate. “You parted on fairly amicable terms, did you not? Why are trying to avoid her?”

“Don’t bother,” she growled, loathe to admit the precision with which his words had struck a nerve. “Not in the mood to discuss.”

“Okay, okay.” He threw up his hands, unwilling to comment further on the nature of their relationship complexities. “If it’s not going to be a problem for the Ministry, then it won’t be a problem for me.”

“Good. So we’ve sorted that out.”

With that, she tucked her hood tighter over her head and began to stalk off, making sure to keep close to the wall as she did so.

“Wait, where are you going?” Mark called after her, bewildered.

“Don't you already have enough eyes on that door?” She responded, careful not to raise her voice too much in case _someone_ heard. “I’d rather not stand somewhere so conspicuous!”

Croix could hear a loud, aggravated groan behind her, but given that he said nothing else to stop her, it was probably safe to assume that she’d been granted the permission to leave. Keeping her head lowered, her intention was to find the most unremarkable corner of the room to hide out in for the remainder of the night. She left just enough of her vision unobscured so that she wouldn’t accidentally bump into someone else; last thing she wanted was to cause a scene with some offended elite and bring attention to herself.

Unfortunately for Croix, her precautions hadn’t accounted for the possibility of someone else bumping into _her_.

Except, to say that someone had merely bumped into her was a gross understatement, given that the impact knocked the air cleanly from her lungs and nearly toppled her over, with only the nearby wall having saved both her and the offending individual from eating the fine marble floor. Still wheezing from the shock of the moment, Croix staggered to an upright position, about to shoot a filthy glare at whichever _moron_ had been so dense as to not watch where they were going in a room crowded with easily insulted aristocrats, when suddenly an all too familiar voice piped up:

“Oh no, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to-”

And then Atsuko Kagari’s apology cut off sharply midway, her already widened eyes widening further as they met Croix’s own aghast stare. For a few seconds they remained that way in stunned silence, the idle chatter of the party around them fading entirely from notice, before Akko recovered quicker and she gasped. Loudly.

“Oh!! It’s Professor Cr-”

Akko’s characteristically chipper voice was abruptly rendered into silence, as if someone had hit a mute button on her. Which, in a manner of things, was more or less what happened. The moment Akko had opened her mouth, Croix had seen disaster incoming and rushed to cast a silencing spell in a moment of mindless panic, her eyes darting around frantically in desperate hopes that a certain witch hadn’t been in earshot of her student’s extremely audible exclamation.

When a few seconds had passed and no anxious blue-haired professors came rushing over with concern, Croix breathed a heavy sigh of relief. She then made an aggressive shushing motion towards her former pupil, who was indignantly flapping her lips and gesturing with her hands, looking very put off at being rendered mute without warning.

“ _I will only lift this if you promise not to start yelling the moment it’s off._ ” Croix hissed, cautiously undoing the spell with a flick of her wand when the girl nodded crossly, placing her hands on her hips with a silent humph.

“What was that for?” Akko asked, her cheeks puffed out in a fine imitation of an irate hamster. Croix winced at the volume of her voice, which was nowhere near as quiet as she would have wanted it to be, but she supposed that the girl was technically honouring her promise and didn’t warrant being silenced against her will a second time.

“You were drawing attention.” She mumbled, still casting wary glances to the crowd nearby.

“Not that much!”

“More than what I wanted.”

“Aw come on! Even then, why would it be so bad? It’s not like you’re hiding from someone are you?”

“Not something you need to worry about. Forget that you saw me okay? Don’t tell anyone I’m here.”

“What?” Akko cocked her head in confusion. “But why?”

“As I said, nothing you need to worry about.” Croix grumbled, wanting very much for this conversation to be over with. “Now shoo, go find your friends or something. It’s going to look weird if you're seen talking this long with a hooded stranger.”

With that, Croix began to walk away, fully expecting to be left alone. Unfortunately, it was as if Akko existed to disregard expectations ( _her_ expectations especially so), and it was to her dismay that the girl took up pace beside her, abjectly refusing to be shaken off.

“Well you’re hooded, but you’re not a stranger right? What are you doing here anyway?” Akko curiously looked her up and down, not even a trace of resentment to her inquiry. “And why are you dressed like all those security people?”

Croix sighed, wondering what would be the best way to get herself out of her current predicament. Of course, out of all the attendees, she just had to run into one that both recognized her and refused to leave her alone. As much as she would have liked to escape her unwanted company, she had no reassurance that the girl wouldn’t just spill the news of her presence to anyone and everyone, especially the one she specifically was trying her hardest to keep it a secret to. Faced with that daunting prospect, it seemed that she had no choice but to weather the young witch’s limitless inquiries for now.

“I’m not here because I wanted to be. The long and short of it is that it’s under the conditions of my parole that I help out the East Mogiana Ministry whenever they ask me to.” She gave a beleaguered huff to emphasize her dissatisfaction. “And for some reason, they really want me to be here for additional security tonight.”

“Ohhh, so you’re like, being a bodyguard or something? That sounds really cool!”

“Hardly. It just means I have to waste time standing around. They already have more than enough people to handle it if something really does go down.”

“Oh.” Despite Croix’s joyless answer, Akko’s mood didn’t seem to have dipped at all. “Well, why don’t you want anyone to know you’re here? It’s not like it’s embarrassing right?”

“That’s not it, and trice now I’m telling you not to worry about it. Do you not have anything better to do than follow me around?”

“Hey, I just wanted to know how you’ve been doing! You don’t have to be mean about it!” Akko retorted, still unfortunately showing no signs of wanting to leave. Croix frowned at her for a few moments, then reluctantly conceded that her grouchiness was perhaps just a touch unreasonable, especially given how little ill-will the girl was holding against her. Their history, after all, wasn’t exactly the friendliest.

“Okay fine, I’m sorry.” She muttered unenthusiastically, albeit as sincerely as she could manage. “I’m not quite sure what to think of your willingness to tag along with people who have a confirmed history of almost killing you.”

“Oh what? That was like a year ago Professor, I know you’ve gotten a lot better! And, besides, I’ve had way worse scrapes since anyway.” From anyone else, such a proclamation surely would have been sarcastic, but Croix couldn't detect a trace of it from the young witch beaming up at her now. It left her too befuddled to even remind the girl that she was long past being her professor anymore, prompting Akko to continue on with the conversation as if she hadn’t at all noticed Croix’s look of bemused disbelief.

“And well, Professor Ursula’s told me a lot about you since then. How you two used to be best friends and all that!” Akko’s eyes lit up as she arrived at a sudden revelation. “Oh yeah! Professor Ursula’s here! You should at least go say hi to her!”

“No. No no, that’s, the exact opposite of what I’m going to do.” Croix replied, flustered at the insinuation that Chariot would have spoken at all about her in the past year they spent apart. “Why do you think I’ve been trying so hard to stay incognito?”

“What!?” Akko looked up at her incredulously. “You’re trying to avoid _her?!_ ”

“Don’t sound so offended, Kagari.” Croix tugged nervously at her shoddily done tie as she saw a head of blue bob up in the crowd, thankfully quite far in the distance, and the tension left her shoulders when it disappeared just as quickly. “I have my reasons.”

“But…” To Croix’s surprise, Akko looked crestfallen. “You don’t want to see her? Why though? She misses you a lot.”

Of all the people, she never expected that _Akko_ would be the one to induce the first significant crack in her resolve. Briefly stunned by that revelation, it was a few seconds before she was able to croak out a response.

“She… said that?”

“Well, not _specifically_ , but it’s pretty obvious!”  

“W-What makes you think so?”

“Well,” Akko stood up straighter, a determined gleam in her eye and looking more stern than Croix could have ever imagined seeing her. “She smiles a lot when she talks about you, but afterwards she always looks really sad and starts sighing for _hours_. That seems like she misses you to me!”

“I… oh. Huh.”

“So why would you even try to avoid her?!” Akko was leaning forward now with her hands on her hips, glaring at her accusingly, enough so that Croix felt pressured to nervously lean back in response.

“I…” Croix felt herself withering under Akko’s fierce scrutiny, then readjusted her glasses with an uncomfortable sigh. “I… didn’t know that, but… it’s not that I don’t want to see her. I just… haven’t fulfilled my promise to her yet.”

“You mean helping her be able to fly again? But why can’t you still visit her while you do that?” Akko asked, not looking particularly impressed by the explanation. “I think she would want to see you way more than some dumb cure.”

“It’s the principle of it okay?” Croix insisted, although with perhaps less conviction than she would have liked. “Either way, I’d still like it if you kept it to yourself that you saw me here tonight. Got that?”

When Akko didn’t respond immediately, Croix opted reluctantly for a different approach.

“Kagari, I would be very much… _grateful_ … if you did so.”

She had to grind out the request through gritted teeth, not exactly the most fond of having to beg for favours, but it had the effect that she wanted. Akko looked deeply conflicted, scrunching up her face in troubled uncertainty before reluctantly nodding her head.

“...Fine. I won’t tell... Professor Ursula that you’re here.”

“You also can’t tell someone else to tell her that I’m here.” Croix added, raising an eyebrow when Akko made a small disappointed noise of frustration, her plans foiled in the blink of an eye.

“Alright-”

“And also you can’t tell her to just come to where I am. Or have anyone else do it. You get the gist.”

“Ugh okay _fine!_ But still don’t get why you’re being so weird about this. If you want to see her, and she wants to see you, why won’t you just go talk to her?”

To that Croix chuckled tiredly, a dry humourless sound, absent of levity.

“Ah, if only things could be that convenient.” She readjusted her hood and turned to walk away, relieved to see that Akko hadn’t moved to trail after her this time. “I’ll see her again when it’s… something I’ve actually earned.”

Croix cast a final glance backwards to ensure Akko had no more parting words for her, finding herself actually mildly amused now by the look of indignant frustration on the girl’s face. Unable to resist another chuckle, she gave a casual wave of goodbye over her shoulder, finally free to lay low for the rest of the evening.

Kids. Everything was so uncomplicated in their eyes, wasn’t it?

If only.

_“She misses you a lot.”_

Croix’s step faltered. Her fists clenched briefly, before she forced herself to continue her stride.

If only.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> forgot to mention last time, but this fic will be updating weekly because it's mostly completed! so here we go with ch 2: in which Red Team (Akko mostly) get up to shenanigans

It had only been a solid ten seconds since Croix disappeared into the crowd before Akko began to deeply regret her promise.

Oh, why hadn’t she just crossed her fingers behind her back or something? It was so stupid. Professor Croix was being stupid. Who needed to earn the right to just talk to someone again? Gah, it was ridiculous! But Akko had been made to give her word, and she couldn’t just go back on it now. No matter how infuriating her former professor was being. Humph.

_Well, fine. That’s that. Just gotta say nothing now. Nothing at all. Especially not to Professor Ursula. Yup. Simple stuff. Just for a few hours._

In theory this was not a difficult task, but well, it was one that required restraint, self-control, and a well-functioning brain-to-mouth filter. None of which exactly were her most standout attributes, this she could begrudgingly admit.

Naturally then, within minutes her resolve was starting to crumble, and she could feel a rapidly growing urge to simply scream the truth to the entire room and be done with it all, consequences be damned. Groaning, she tugged at her hair in vexation; she couldn’t even enjoy the rest of her evening like this! Not with this knowledge burning in the back of her mind, not when knowing that Professor Ursula would be so undoubtedly delighted if she just kicked her promise to the curb and spilled the stupid beans already.

No, change of plans, she couldn’t let it end like _this_. How could she just pretend that it was all okay? Croix was all smart about what she made her agree to, but there had to be some way around it all, right?

Yes, there must be. She felt a little bad about scheming behind her ex-professor’s back, but surely this was reasonable when Croix was being so _dumb_. And if she did get mad about it afterwards, Akko would just say they could call it even now, after all the nonsense they went through in her first year. Yes. That seemed fair, didn’t it?

Her mind set, Akko breathed a determined huff and set off in search of her teammates. This was bound to become a complicated operation, and some assistance would definitely be appreciated.

 

* * *

 

“So…” Sucy drawled, with her characteristic apathy as a single visible eye blinked lazily in response to Akko’s excited recount of her most recent misadventure. “You want us to meddle in our teachers’ relationship.”

“Sucy did you listen to me at all!?” Akko whined, stomping her foot impatiently. “I just want to get Professor Ursula to know that Professor Croix is here! Without breaking any promises! And technically, I never specifically promised that I wouldn’t tell anyone else… so long as, uh, I don’t get you guys to tell her for me...”

“Why do you need to try so hard anyway?” Her roommate asked, her question accompanied with an emphatic eyeroll. “Wouldn’t it be so much easier if you just told Professor Ursula directly? It’s not like Croix can give you detention.”

“But I said I wouldn’t!” Akko looked aghast at the very suggestion. “I can’t just break a promise like that! She might never trust me again!”

“Don’t see why that’d be such a big deal,” Sucy muttered, even though she shrugged resignedly, already having expected Akko’s stubborn adherence to principle. Lotte looked comparatively more understanding as she raised a finger to her chin in thoughtful intrigue.

“I see… Well then, what would you like to do, Akko?”

Sucy blinked again, looking a bit caught off guard as she glanced towards her other roommate. “Really? You’re not going to try to stop her?”

“It does sound frustrating though… And Professor Croix seems like she’s being a little silly…” Lotte flushed a little bit, giggling nervously as she scratched the back of her head. “Ah, I mean, I’ve seen situations like this a lot in… stories… that I’ve read, and usually, things would have worked out way faster if the two people just talked to each other…”

“Yeah, exactly!” Akko exclaimed, glad that at least someone was seeing her point. Thank goodness for Lotte, wherever would she be without her? “And besides, it’s not fair that Professor Ursula doesn’t have the chance to talk to her, because she doesn’t even know she’s here! So I say we have to do something about that!”

Sucy scoffed and crossed her arms.

“‘ _We’_ don’t have to do anything about this. It’s not like they can’t work this out on their own.”

Lotte reached out to gently touch her shoulder, a hopeful little grin on her face.

“Sucy, maybe just this once? Akko seems really into it…”

Sucy looked unusually conflicted for a few moments, confronted with the unprecedented effectiveness of her roommate’s shy smile, her mouth wobbling before she gave in with a low growl of relent.

“Okay, fine. Whatever.”

“Yay! I knew you’d come around Sucy!”

“Don’t push it,” Sucy’s deepening scowl did little to deter Akko’s radiant grin of triumph, briefly muttering something or another about poisons under her breath. “So, what do you have in mind genius?”

“Well,” and Akko rubbed her hands conspiratorially as she grinned, “I did come up with something of an idea just now actually…”

 

* * *

 

“Professor Ursulaaa!”

Chariot yelped in surprise, gesturing urgently at her pupil to lower her volume as the girl drew closer with remarkable haste. A couple of the nearby attendees threw disdainful looks in their direction, but thankfully Akko’s minor disregard of etiquette didn’t attract more trouble beyond that.

“Akko, what did we say about minding our manners-”

“Professor! I need your help!”

That quickly got Chariot’s attention, reprimand forgotten as she looked at her frazzled student with concern.

“W-What is it? Are you alright-”

“Have you seen my hair tie?!”

Chariot blinked at her in mild confusion, realizing now that Akko’s frilly hair piece was indeed missing from its usual spot at the back of the girl’s head.

“I… no, I don’t think so…”

“Oh no… I was hoping maybe you did…” Akko’s posture slumped several inches in utter dejection, which Chariot couldn’t help but find a little… strange. While she wasn’t sure if the item had some sort of intrinsic personal value, if so she would have sooner expected the girl to immediately tear off in search of it with her characteristic bullheaded determination instead of losing steam so quickly.

“Do you remember when you last had it?”

“No… But I feel like it was on me just a minute ago…”

The sight of the girl’s downcast expression nonetheless spurred in her a surge of sympathy, and she gave her student a kindly smile.

“It’s alright Akko, I’m sure it’ll turn up. You’ve probably just dropped it somewhere. I’ll help you look, okay?”

To that, Akko instantly brightened, her youthful face once again taken up by her characteristically sunny grin. Which, in an odd way, it seemed almost… too much so.

“Thank you so much Professor! Really, thanks a lot!”

“I-It’s not a problem, really. No need-”

But Akko had already darted off before she could finish speaking, looking rather… triumphant? Chariot had to ponder briefly about that. Something was just a little bit off throughout that entire exchange, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason why. She cast the thought aside with a shake of her head; she must be imagining things. Her uneasiness was just setting her on edge.

Besides, Akko’s request for help at least gave her some purpose other than to stand around uncomfortably, dreading her next encounter with whoever’s eye she caught next. She’d found some brief respite by accompanying Finnelan, but there were many people vying to speak to Hanbridge and she’d unfortunately lost sight of her colleague at some point in the crowd. It left her back at square one, awkwardly ducking her way out of conversations and desperately wishing for the evening to be over as quickly as possible.

Really, it was all just such a headache. She wasn’t sure what it was that was garnering her so much attention anyway. Her simple pastel blue dress didn’t do much to stand out against the far more extravagant attire she could see adorning the other women in the room, and she’d even gone out of her way to cover up her vibrantly red hair again, figuring that the dull blue would easily prevent her from sticking out amongst the crowd.

Well, that endeavour seemed to have failed. She flushed and pretended not to notice the sharply dressed man beckoning at her from the corner of her eye, quickly hurrying in the opposite direction. If nothing else, she at least had a ready excuse to avoid any future oncoming interactions.

Chariot breathed a heavy sigh. The night couldn’t end soon enough.

 

* * *

 

“Alright, we’re set!” Akko whispered excitedly, eagerly nudging a far less enthused Sucy to her left. “Do you have it ready?”

“It’d be pretty slow of me not to have it ready by this point, wouldn’t it.” Sucy drawled, ignoring Akko’s little huff and quiet mutter that she _just wanted to make sure_. Holding Akko’s ‘missing’ hair tie in one hand, she reached into her dress with the other, pulling out a small vial of dubious green liquid. Carefully, she uncorked it and poured two drops onto the frilly pink adornment, which instantly began to shudder and morph upon contact with Sucy’s questionably legal concoction.

Akko made a face of disgust and shrunk backwards as eight spider-like legs sprouted from one side, making a mental note of never, ever putting that thing into her hair again. Sucy seemed quite proud of her work, a sharp-toothed grin stretching from ear to ear as she turned the transformed object in her hands, a very conflicting combination of pink ribbons and arachnoid limbs.

“And… you’re sure this won’t freak everyone out?” Akko questioned, leaning to examine the spider hair-tie more closely, while still ensuring that she didn’t get… too close. Sucy pulled out her wand, mumbled something under her breath, and gave it a wave. One puff of smoke later and the legs had significantly shrunk, albeit they remained waving about helplessly in no less disturbing of a fashion. Satisfied, Sucy knelt down and placed it carefully on the ground, legs-side down, where it scuttled in a circle before quietly settling.

“There. It’ll just look like a regular bauble now.”

“...But won’t it still be weird if it’s moving?”

Sucy shrugged nonchalantly with a dismissive flick of her hand.

“Nothing I can do about that. Take it or leave it.”

Akko scrunched up her face, deliberating, then shook herself and nodded resolutely.

“It’s okay, this will have to do!”

A satisfied smirk on her face, Sucy gestured to the now relatively innocent-looking hair adornment with a silent command. The… thing responded immediately, turning itself to scamper off in the direction its creator was pointing towards, almost instantly disappearing into a forest of fancy trousers and sweeping ball gowns.

“Well, I can handle it from here. Is Lotte in position?”

Akko nodded, giving her roommate a thumbs up as she made her leave.

“Yeah, I’ll go see if she’s ready! I’m counting on you Sucy!”

Grinning when Sucy nonchalantly returned the gesture, Akko turned to face forward and felt her heart swell with resolve.

“Okay!” She whispered to herself, eyes burning bright. “Let’s do this!”

 

* * *

 

There was a flicker at the edge of Chariot’s vision. Instinctively, her eye moved to try and catch the source of movement, and she felt a small swell of relief when she managed to discern a familiar pink shape against the glossy tiled floor.

_Ah, there it is._

So Akko had just dropped it after all. Chariot couldn’t resist a small sigh of dismay for how easily the girl tended to lose track of her belongings (save for anything related to her impressive collection of Shiny Chariot memorabilia), though the gesture was, as always, tempered by a rather maternal surge of affection. Either way, at least the crisis was resolved, and she’d be able to put Akko’s worries to rest once she could find her student to return it.

Or, that was what she had thought, but upon a second glance, Chariot realized that the floor was now bare where she could have sworn she’d last seen the dropped bundle of pink frills. Puzzled, she quickened her stride until she’d reached her destination, looking about the nearby ground in case someone had perhaps kicked it aside when she wasn’t paying attention.

A few seconds later, she caught sight of it again, innocently laying a few meters away from where she stood now. Chariot inhaled another breath of relief, although she could not help but follow it up with a small, perplexed frown. That was odd indeed, she was quite sure that it hadn’t been sitting there the first time, and it didn’t seem like anyone had touched it. After pondering for a brief moment, she dispelled her confusion with a shake of her head; it must have been a simple lapse of notice on her own part.

She stopped briefly in her tracks when a couple walked by in front of her, managing a polite smile as she allowed them to pass before continuing on her way. Only to stop abruptly once more as she realized that the ground was empty, the offending item once again seeming to have vanished off the face of the earth.

Just as Chariot began to suspect that mischief was afoot, it reappeared in the corner of her vision, this time very definitely… moving on its own? Her mouth dropped open in a silent gasp as it crept along the ground, carefully avoiding incoming shoes, as if it had spontaneously developed the ability to move entirely of its own will and volition.

Oh, it never was simple when it came to Akko, was it?

Feeling for the wand she had tucked against her thigh, Chariot set off towards it purposefully, thankful that everyone in the vicinity seemed too engrossed in conversation to notice what was scuttling around their feet. It would definitely be a right disaster if someone else did catch sight of it and set off a wave of hysteria; after all, not all of the attendees had much in the way of magical experience and were unlikely to respond well to the sight of a typically inanimate object moving about on its own.

As if sensing her intent, it suddenly began to scurry away in the opposite direction. Quickening her stride, Chariot followed after in hot pursuit.

 

* * *

 

Croix cracked a yawn as she slumped lazily against the ballroom wall. Having finally gotten Akko to leave her alone, it didn't take her long to find refuge in one of the room’s more inconspicuous corners, where she was all too happy to camp out the rest of the night if it meant that she'd be spared from additional unwanted encounters. She felt fairly confident in the odds; there was little reason to look twice at one of the many ministry guards after all, and the party would only last for another two hours or so.

That said, it was still another two hours of total inactivity that she had to look forward to, and she was already utterly, utterly bored. Idling had always agitated her. There was only so much time in the day and here she was, wasting the evening away. She felt the temptation to bring out her phone so that she might take another read through her compiled research notes, but Mark had been insistent that she at least look like she was taking her job seriously. And while she certainly would have liked to tell him to shove it where it fit, there were still plenty of his colleagues in the vicinity and no guarantee that the witch himself wouldn’t swing by to check that she was properly “upholding the Ministry’s good image”.

Not having the patience for the lengthy diatribe that scenario would incur, Croix sullenly committed herself to staring into the crowd, like the complete waste of time that it was.

Every so often, familiar faces would spring into view. There was the O’Neill girl, proudly strutting along with her roommates close behind as she left a trail of swooning young girls in her wake. The Cavendish heir popped up occasionally as well, flanked by her two companions that Croix always had a hard time telling apart; a very popular girl given the scores of young men that tripped over themselves and each other in their poorly-disguised attempts to gain her favour. Akko too she spotted weaving through the crowd on occasion; in one instance, the girl noticed her as well and shot back a rather heated glare before stomping off in the direction of her teammates nearby.

To that Croix had shrugged back as a response, even though Akko hadn’t paid attention to her long enough to see it. She could live with the girl’s disdain for her, it wasn’t like she didn’t deserve that at the very least. So long as she wasn’t up to any funny business and kept her mouth shut as promised, Akko could resent her as much as she desired.

Of course, it was naturally inevitable that she caught a few glances of Chariot as well, each time instinctively ducking her head as it happened. She couldn’t help but feel paranoid, on just the chance that her old friend would look her way and somehow manage to recognize her even with her face obscured behind her hood. It was a prospect that filled her with both excitement and dread, yearning and self-resentment at war with one another, tearing her between two conflicting, incompatible desires.

Against her better judgement, Croix always caught herself peeking anyways, unable to resist the temptation despite her fear of being spotted. And once her gaze had settled, it seemed impossible to tear it away. Chariot was… beautiful, after all. And while the once-performer was too humble to ever flaunt it, with her modest attire and bashful mannerisms, to Croix, no one in the room could have possibly looked lovelier.

It seemed that she wasn’t alone in that opinion either.

The first time Croix spotted a finely dressed gentleman approach the young professor, she could feel her gut lurch as it instantly flooded with a chilling sense of foreboding. The frown on her face twisted into a resentful scowl upon recognizing the nature of his intent, his overtures of interest now not remotely subtle. Her skin crawled when she looked back to Chariot and noted the signs of her obvious discomfort, the darting of her eyes, her hands twisting and clenching behind her back.

It completely amazed her how clueless the man was to Chariot’s body language, making for the most frustrating few minutes in recent memory as Croix silently seethed, wishing that her old friend could find it in her to eschew politeness just this once and tell the idiot to go and choke on an eclair. Her fingers twitched instinctively over the wand at her waist when she saw him extend a hand to her, with the _stupidly_ misguided expectation that Chariot would be eager to join it with her own. And for a few agonizing seconds, Croix feared that she’d cave in and do so. It wouldn’t be unlike Chariot to succumb to such pressure, and while Croix was undoubtedly bristling over the man’s utter disregard for Chariot’s blatant unease, it would be remiss of her not to admit that there was something else, something deep in her heart that she felt would shatter should she have been forced to see their hands connected.

So thus she breathed a deep sigh of relief when Chariot turned and refused to meet his gaze, murmuring something that Croix could not hear and hurrying off before the man could voice so much as a protest. It was perhaps petty, but she couldn’t resist a smirk as the gentleman stared after her in bewilderment, struck dumb by the swiftness with which his invitation had been rejected.

 _Heh_.

Her satisfaction was short-lived though when she saw the same situation repeat itself not that much later, and then not much later again after that. It was a little bit dumbfounding, not so much that Chariot didn’t look stunning enough to attract that much attention (because she certainly did), but Croix had never thought she might be present such a scenario, nor did she expect to have been so very… bothered to witness it.

With a growl, she tugged her hood lower and diverted her gaze to the floor. There was no sense in irritating herself further and she ought to have been keeping her head down anyway. Besides, on what grounds did she even have the right to be upset about this? As they were now she didn’t dare to speak to Chariot, didn’t know if they could even be considered on good terms, and was subsequently perhaps the least qualified person in the entire room to be seething over the current affairs. The scores of moony knuckleheads might have all been tactless morons, the whole boneheaded lot, but unlike her, it wasn’t like any of them served the unique distinction of almost having killed the woman of their affections.

This evening was souring by the minute, and more than anything, she just wished she could leave. Had the cosmic forces of the universe determined this to be a fitting retribution for all her wrongdoing? To be shunted to the sidelines, forced to endure the torment of watching everyone but herself extend their hand to the woman who still held her heart so?

By the Nine, this must be what hell felt like. Perhaps it could be considered karmic, but well, that wasn’t going to stop her from being miserable about it.

She might well have sulked for the rest of the evening if left undisturbed, furiously glaring holes into the intricate tile floor as she bitterly stewed in her own envy. But it seemed that the universe wasn’t content to finish toying with her just yet. Something came scrabbling into view at the edges of her vision, and Croix blinked in surprise as she refocused her gaze.

It was… pink. And frilly.

More importantly, it was… moving?

Well, something was off about this picture.

With a frown, she reached for the wand at her belt and took a cautious step forward.

 

* * *

 

“Okay Lotte, now!”

Akko grinned as her roommate nodded back at her determinedly, then closed her eyes and clasped her wand with both hands, raising it so that the point was just beneath her chin. Quietly, intensely, she whispered her request for aid.

“Spirit of the Wind, lend me your power!”

 

* * *

 

Croix had just been about to cast a levitation spell so that she might contain the curious item for closer inspection, until someone decided then it was a timely moment to punch her in the face.

Or, at least, that was what it had seemed like initially. Dazed from the moment of impact, it took her a few moments to come to the conclusion that she had, in fact, not been punched at all. Rather, it felt more appropriately like she’d been standing behind a plane engine just as it was about to take off. As she dumbly reached upwards to adjust her glasses, she made the brief, absentminded observation that the sudden gust had knocked her hood backwards, properly revealing her face for the world to see.

She had less than a few seconds to properly register the potential consequences that could incur, before an… awfully familiar voice cut through the haze of confusion.

“...Croix?”

Her heart dropped to the floor, dread icing through every vein in her body as she turned instinctively towards the source of the voice.

And there Chariot stood, her mouth agape, her shock a perfect mirror image of Croix’s own. Eyes stretched wide open, disbelieving, not quite having processed just who it was that had emerged so unceremoniously before her.

Unprepared for the encounter that she’d gone to such painstaking extents to avoid, Croix could only think of one sensible response to the unexpected turn of events.

She ran.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if u thought it was gay before, u ain't seen nothin yet

Her eyes weren’t deceiving her, were they?

That was Croix, wasn’t it? Surely, she could recognize that woman anywhere?

And did she just… run away?

From _her?_

It was such an unexpected encounter, and it happened so quickly, all Chariot could do was gape in shock after her old friend as she swiftly threaded her way into the crowd, the spell only breaking when she realized that the ex-convict had just about entirely disappeared into a sea of suits and lavish dresses. Jolting out of her surprise, all she could think of was to follow after her, utterly bewildered at… well, just about everything that had occurred in the last ten seconds. She tried to recollect her thoughts as she went, dodging through the chatting aristocrats with mumbled apologies, all while she desperately attempted to maintain a visual on the fleeting spot of lilac in the distance.

What was going on? Why was Croix here? Had she been here this entire time? Had she been avoiding Chariot the entire evening? _Why_ would she have been avoiding Chariot the whole evening?

Her chest tightened as she contemplated what reason Croix could possibly have for trying so hard to escape her. It made her consider, for the briefest of moments, if she should give up on her pursuit. After all, if Croix was actively attempting to get away from her… perhaps it would be for the best she didn’t find out why?

It was indeed only a brief consideration, for Chariot quickly shook her head and picked up her pace. No, she couldn’t fall back on old habits again. If there was something wrong, she had to know why. Even if it had to do with Croix. Especially if it had to do with Croix.

And sure enough, Chariot was catching up with her. She was close enough now that she could catch a glimpse of pale green eyes behind the glint of her glasses and the panic etched tensely into her expression, the sight of which made her heart ache terribly. She thought they’d finally put to rest their conflicts of the past decade before her dearest friend had been taken away by the authorities; just why then would Croix be so unwilling to face her now?

The answer to that might have soon been in reach, had someone not suddenly stepped into her path. Unwilling to rudely shove them aside, Chariot was about to slip around until she realized that the person who cut her off had, in fact, moved to stop her intentionally.

“Ah! Ms. Callistis! So we meet again!”

Oh no, this was the duke of something-or-another wasn’t it? Anxiously, she tried to peer around him, her jaw clenched with frustration as she was helpless to notice how quickly Croix had managed to widen the distance between them again.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m in the middle of something-”

“Haha, always rushing somewhere aren’t you? Surely there’s no need-”

“No really, I am, I’m terribly sorry!”

Out of patience for further niceties, Chariot didn’t grace the man with the opportunity to say much else. In a second she had ducked past him, frantically scanning through the faces in the crowd for a trace of her old friend. She was dismayed to find that in the few seconds the duke had distracted her, Croix had somehow entirely vanished from view, and despite her best efforts, Chariot couldn’t seem to catch sight of her again.

Still, unwilling to give up, she continued hurrying in the direction she’d seen Croix head towards last. One of the room’s entrances emerged before her, next to which stood one of the Ministry witches, a tall man with glasses and short brown hair who looked strangely… exasperated. Chariot took a moment to observe his dark blue robe, thinking that it looked oddly familiar, before a realization abruptly clicked into place. She walked up to him briskly, anxiously wringing her hands in front of her chest and hoping that her hunch might prove fruitful.

“E-Excuse me, sir.” She stuttered, nervously. “Did you see a woman with purple hair and glasses pass by just now? I… think she must be working with you, since she’s wearing the same uniform…”

The man looked at her strangely, his eyebrows knit together briefly before rising up toward his hairline. Not having expected such a reaction, Chariot felt immediately self-conscious, tilting her head with awkward smile.

“Er… I-It’s alright if you haven’t, I was just…”

“Are you… looking for Meridies?”

Chariot stared at him with surprise, her discomfort quickly fading as she gasped with delight.

“Yes! Meridies! Croix Meridies! You know of her?”

To her surprise, the man groaned, pressing a hand against his forehead with an expression of weary fatigue..

“Unfortunately, yes. So, you did catch sight of her after all. That explains a lot.”

Chariot blinked at him in confusion, not quite sure what he meant by that statement. Before she could inquire, the Ministry witch pointed over his shoulder at the door behind him.

“She ran off saying she was going to patrol the east wing, even though I told her we didn’t need anyone to do that.” He kneaded the bridge of his nose with a long-suffering sigh. “Frankly, the only reason I’m not going after her is because we really don’t need more hands on deck here. So long as she keeps out of trouble, I couldn’t care less what she does.”

Chariot could not resist an apologetic (and understanding) chuckle. It was difficult not to sympathize, given how she was, or had at least once been intimately familiar with the source of his frustrations.

“Anyways, if you wanted to go after her, be my guest.” He glanced to the door behind him, his expression growing somewhat more serious. “I’m not really sure what’s going on between you two, but seeing you got her real worked up the whole night. If you could put her at ease, it might make my life a lot easier.”

“Oh, yes, er, I’ll see what I can do.” Her heart seeded by doubt, Chariot thought that her response must not have sounded very confident. After all, this was only further confirmation that Croix had known all along of her presence and yet had actively chosen to evade her. What would she have to expect when she finally did manage to catch up to her? Was she truly ready for what that might entail?

Chariot thanked the man one more time and gave a wave over her shoulder before pushing out the door, her thoughts rife with unease. The answers she was looking for indeed might not be pleasant ones. But, well, she wasn’t going to turn back now.

After all, that was how everything had gone wrong between them in the first place, hadn’t it? Dazzled by the spotlight, spurred by the cheering crowds, eager to look everywhere except at the one she should have been most attentive to all along. So quick she’d been to shy away from conflict, from confrontation. So naively convinced that any issue could work itself out without ever committing herself to resolving them, so utterly blind to how rapidly her dearest friend had been drifting away.

Her jaw tightened, and for the moment, Chariot managed to banish her insecurities, her steps slowly steadying with conviction.

History would not repeat itself tonight.

 

* * *

 

This ought to be far enough right?

Well, frankly, Croix would believe it if it meant she finally had a chance to slow down and catch her breath. Her poor constitution and poorer stamina were doing her no favours. That was, perhaps unsurprisingly, the consequence of a diet primarily composed of instant noodles and cheap coffee. And while she usually couldn’t have cared less about her pathetic state of physical health, fleeing across an enormous academy to escape the notice of a former colleague did make for an unusual exception to the rule.

She paused for a few beats to catch her breath, the rush of blood thundering through her ears as she strained to listen for approaching footsteps. Her wand flickered to life, gathering a sphere of light between its prongs. It faintly brightened the hallways of Appleton’s east wing with a pale radiance, compounding on the dim glow of the scarred moon shining in through the large windows on the outside wall.

When no one approached in the next few seconds, Croix dared to presume she might be home-free at last, heaving a quiet breath of relief as she turned to continue her self-assigned ‘patrol’. That was, up until the faint clicking of heels against tiled floor began to echo down the hallway, rapidly increasing in volume with each step. And while her first instinct was to freeze in stunned disbelief (as if somehow that might make her invisible), internally Croix could only resign herself to accept that in spite of all her greatest efforts, it simply wasn’t in the stars for her to avoid her fate tonight.

“Croix wait!”

Her throat was robbed of all moisture, which made for a painful nervous swallow as Croix reluctantly turned her head, only managing to catch Chariot’s eye for an instant before cowardly averting her gaze.

“Chariot… I…”

She was at a loss for words. There was no point in feigning ignorance; their eyes had very obviously met earlier back in the ballroom, that not even taking to account how blatantly Croix had bolted from her on sight. But caught in the untimely reunion, one that she hadn’t even begun considering how to approach, her brain drew a blank when she tried to think of how she might possibly justify her hasty flight from the party.

“F-Fancy seeing you here tonight…”

She winced. What a pathetically unconvincing statement it was. The thought of having to watch Chariot’s reaction to such obviously faked cheer made her want to shrivel up and spontaneously dissipate, but Croix painstakingly forced herself to raise her head so she could face the woman directly. This was happening after all, regardless of her wants and expectations. There simply was no running from it anymore.

But Croix felt her heart drop like a stone when she finally brought herself to look at Chariot properly for the first time that evening, only to find that her once-underclassman was visibly trembling as their gazes locked at last. Chariot looked like she was on the verge of tears, her mouth set in a thin frown as she regarded Croix resignedly, her voice fragile when she shakily began to speak.

“It’s okay,” she murmured, whispered really. “You don’t have to pretend.”

Croix stared back at her blankly, her thoughts thrown into chaos as she looked at the other woman with growing panic. “I… n-no that’s… not…”

“It’s alright if you… didn’t want to see me,” Chariot’s voice somehow grew even smaller, in a manner that emphasized how decidedly not alright it really was. “I’m sorry for chasing after you, I just… would like to know why…”

“No!” Croix surprised herself briefly with the intensity of her own exclamation, horrified by the shimmer of tears she could see glinting in the light of her wand . “I didn’t not want to see you, really! I… I just…”

Chariot stared at her forlornly, not looking particularly swayed by her unseemly blustering. “You just?”

“I…”

For a moment, Croix paused, realizing just how ridiculous she would sound if she tried to genuinely explain her behaviour for the evening. Another glance at Chariot’s brokenhearted expression was all it took to convince her that she couldn’t care less how much of an idiot she made out of herself, if it meant just for once she might be able to stop making the other woman so miserable.

“I just… I… the antidote for Wagandea's pollen… I don’t have it yet.” She managed at last, frustratedly. Furious at herself, at the universe at large for forcing her into this situation to begin with. The confession rung out through Appleton’s empty halls and faded into a distant echo, during which Chariot stared at her mutely, needing a few moments for the words to sink in before cocking her head in bewilderment.

“What does... that have to do with this?” She asked, tentatively, starting to look more confused than she was tearful.

“Everything! I… I promised you that the next time we met, I’d be able to break the curse.” Croix choked out, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “A-After everything, that’s the least I owe you…”

Chariot looked at her as if she’d taken to speaking an alien language, the misery in her expression slowly fading to startled disbelief.

“You can’t be serious… Oh, by the Nine, you are…” The last traces of her anguish melting away, Chariot released a sigh, not without some measure of exasperation as she ran a hand through her long blue locks of hair. “I can absolutely believe that you are.”

“W-What?” Croix replied, defensively, albeit immensely relieved that the other woman at least no longer looked like she was about to cry. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Croix, you didn’t think I’d be upset to see you without it right?” Chariot asked, dismayed.

“Well… N-No, I guess not.”

And well, that was true. Croix never could have believed that of Chariot, so familiar she was with her friend’s unrelentingly kind and good hearted nature. Not even her most cynical spells of self-loathing could have convinced her otherwise. No, the issue had always laid with Croix herself, what she had thought necessary to redeem herself in the eyes of the one she had once so cruelly betrayed.

“Then?”

“Well… it… it would be so… conceited of me, wouldn’t it?” Croix fumbled for words, once again afraid to look Chariot in the eye, if only because of how unused she was to expressing herself with such a degree of sincerity. “To just… show up empty-handed? To expect everything to be okay again when I had nothing to offer you… Not having done anything to… to earn back your trust… I-If anything ever even could...”

“Oh Croix…” Chariot sighed, still shaking her head disbelievingly. It was only now that Croix realized just how much closer the other woman had gotten to her while she’d been struggling to explain herself. It made her breath catch in her throat just to comprehend that such a thing could be happening, when she hadn’t dared even dream about seeing her again, not this soon after-

“You, you’re always taking things so seriously.” In spite of her exasperation, there was a certain fondness that crept into Chariot’s smile, the sight of which instantly rendered Croix weak at the knees. “You don’t need to prove anything to me Croix. It’s not like I was unconvinced that you’d changed for the better.”

And in truth, that was the answer she’d always expected to hear from Chariot, so sincere in her gentleness, so willing to be hopeful for the future rather than stew over wounds of the past. Still, it didn’t stop Croix from shaking her head, stubborn to a fault as always. Unwilling to accept that things could be so easily resolved, that they had always been so easily resolvable.

“Y-You can’t just say that,” she insisted, at risk of sounding petulant and childish. “It shouldn’t be that easy, not after what you know I did-”

“And why would you want it to be difficult?” Chariot raised an eyebrow, calmly observing as Croix struggled, and failed, to conjure an adequate response. Her gaze grew soft, tender even, as she tentatively took yet another step closer.

“It’s been more than a year already, hasn’t it? I’m just happy you’re here, cure or no cure.” Chariot chuckled, all of a sudden shy as she gazed towards Croix with unmistakable affection. “Flying would be nice, but I’ll gladly live without it if it means I don’t have to wait another decade to see you again.”

Croix was ready to tell her just how absurdly naive she was being, that not even she should be that quick to trust again, but Chariot’s painfully sincere proclamation brought that intention to a crashing halt. After the comprehension had slowly settled, she felt blood rushing to her face, as all she could manage in response to that declaration was a strangled “....Oh.”

Chariot seemed to realize herself just how emotionally loaded of a sentiment she’d admitted to, rapidly flushing as she brought her hands around her back; a nervous habit that Croix was well familiar with since their earliest schooldays.

“I… I mean. Um. You know, s-since we finally made amends and all. I-I didn’t want to not be able to talk to you for so long again.”

“...Yeah. Makes sense.”

Croix felt lightheaded, and her voice came out faint. Afraid to think too hard about what could have driven such a particular choice of words, she rushed to change the topic.

“A-Anyways, I, uh, really didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” That transition seemed smooth enough, the audible crack in her voice aside. “You and all the kids, huh? Guests of honour for the whole ‘saving the world’ thing?”

“O-Oh, not exactly but, well, I suppose the Headmistress wanted it to be something like that.” Chariot looked just as relieved by the shift in topic, some of the tension leaving her stance as she visibly relaxed. “To be honest, I’m not terribly fond of having to be here, I feel rather out of place. But the Headmistress did ask nicely, and well, I was… a bit worried for Akko…”

Croix couldn’t help but snort at that latter admission. Maternally paranoid as always, although she supposed it was a valid concern. That girl was a trouble magnet of unequal measure.

“You don’t look out of place. On the contrary, you look lovely.”

It took a second for Croix to realize just what she had said out loud, and promptly wished that Woodward herself might spontaneously materialize out of the ether to smite her from existence. It’d be the kindest thing that ancient crone would have ever done for her. But given that the earth refused to swallow her whole and spare her of her suffering, Croix had little choice but to face the consequences of her lapse into stupidity, instantly averting her gaze yet again as she barely held herself back from hissing a foul word out loud.

If she hadn't turned away she would have noticed Chariot turning equally as red, her hands rigid where they’d flown up to curl in front of her chest. Stuck dumb, the both of them, an embarrassed silence hanging over their heads for the next few seconds as Croix floundered to rectify the situation.

“I… er, t-that is to say-”

“You think so?”

Croix’s sputterings ceased in her throat as she dared to lift her gaze, somehow inducing further havoc in her already chaotic mess of mind when she realized the other woman was regarding her meekly out of the corner of her eye, suddenly looking so demure and bashful and… oh, did Chariot seriously think she’d be capable of telling her no? The excitable young girl of her most fondest memories had matured with a grace that she wouldn’t have thought possible, if it weren’t for the strange things that the sight of her old friend had done to her heart all evening.

“O-Of course I do,” she mumbled as she fidgeted with her wand, figuring it would be best to just be sincere about it at this point. “You look… pretty... tonight… N-Not that you don’t already all the time… just… y-you know...”

And well, as awfully as she’d managed to string together that barely coherent sentence, Croix did mean it. Chariot’s choice of dress might have been modest in comparison to the other attendees, but it simply… suited her. The subtle curves that graciously outlined her figure, the straps that left her shoulders bare, dipping downwards to rest above her cleavage- that Croix didn’t dare look in the vicinity of for longer than a fragment of a second, lest she forget to tear her gaze away otherwise. Her heart might well have been doing cartwheels in her chest when Chariot turned an even deeper shade of scarlet, her face partially hidden by her hand in a poor attempt to cover how flustered Croix’s dazed compliments had rendered her.

“A-Ah, this? Oh, it was just, something I had lying around the back of my closet really, i-it’s not that much…”

It was astonishing, the extents of Chariot’s humbleness, which was entirely sincere in nature too. It seemed as if it had genuinely never crossed the woman’s mind that she might be considered heart-stoppingly beautiful (and even that would be a gross understatement, in Croix’s definitely unbiased opinion). That alone could have befuddled her until the cessation of time and the universe, but she didn’t have long to puzzle it out, because shortly afterwards Chariot finally managed to recover, scratching the back of her head with a bashful laugh.

“E-Either way… thank you. I’m… glad you think so.”

There’s was a tangible presence of something having been left unspoken, but if so, Chariot didn’t venture to voice it aloud. Instead, her gaze flickered over Croix’s own attire, a curious expression on her face as she did.

“Oh yes, I forgot to ask, why _are_ you here tonight anyway?” Chariot raised an eyebrow as she assessed Croix’s uniform, in a manner that instantly made the other woman feel self-conscious. “And why are you dressed like that?”

“Oh. That. Um, long story.” Croix waved her hand in a show of forced casualness. “I’m out here on the conditions of my parole, although honestly I really don’t see why I was needed here tonight. Security doesn’t look like it needs much of a boost.”

She would have complained again about how pointless it was to be dragged away from her research for so mundane a reason, but against all odds, things had turned out… better than expected. Indeed, while Croix might be loathe to admit it, she never would have been able to reconnect with Chariot so soon had she not been pulled out here against her initial misgivings. And certainly, she could not deny that she was... glad, that conversation with her old friend still felt so comfortable, once all the misunderstandings (of her own fault, naturally) had been sorted out of the way.

Croix broke from her musings once she realized that Chariot was still staring at her uniform peculiarly. Before she had much of a chance to wonder what had caught her attention, Chariot suddenly turned away with a chuckle, her amusement only increasing when she caught sight of Croix’s perplexed expression.

“Ah, I’m sorry, but Croix, do you not know how to put on a tie?”

Oh. _Oh_.

A silent string of curses just barely held back on the tip of her tongue, Croix’s hands instinctively flew up to feel for the poorly-done knot at her neck, instantly regretting the petulant choices that had brought her to this embarrassment of a situation. Some sort of cosmic comeuppance again, perhaps; the karmic forces of the universe seemed determined to humiliate her as much as possible before the woman of her deepest affections.

“W-Wait, no, er, this is just-”

Chariot laughed again, giggled really, as she took a step forward, gently prying Croix's hands away to loosen the knot herself.

“It’s alright Croix, stay still for a minute.”

The realization of Chariot's suddenly close proximity rendering her speechless, Croix found herself relenting to her request, barely managing to wheeze a faint grunt of affirmation for a response. She stayed silent, listening to Chariot as she hummed a little tune beneath her breath, her hands working swiftly as they wound the length of cloth with practiced ease. While she attempted to glance to the side and remain as unflustered as she could manage, her gaze repeatedly flickered back to the pretty face hovering mere inches from her own, as if by some irresistible gravity, until at last she gave up and settled for watching her old friend directly as she worked. Chariot remained blithely oblivious to her starstruck expression, too engrossed in her task to notice, for better or for worse.

She knew that Chariot had finished when she felt her collar tighten slightly and the other woman stepped back, looking satisfied by her handiwork. The space in front of her suddenly felt a lot emptier, and Croix hid her disappointment by nonchalantly shoving her wand-free hand into her pocket.

“...Thanks.” She mumbled, not without a twinge of lingering embarrassment. Chariot was positively beaming at her, still a hint of amusement in her smile as she shook her head good-naturedly.

“No need. I would have thought you’d known how, really.”

For a moment, Croix considered confessing that she’d only intentionally mucked it up out of spite towards her parole officer, but couldn’t quite bring herself to. Not with the way the other woman was so warmly gazing at her, with such a sense of faith and goodwill that Croix felt it inappropriate to behave any lesser than whatever it was that Chariot saw in her.

“I’m more surprised that you do.” Croix replied, opting to deflect the focus away from herself. “I don’t know, I didn’t think ties were much your style.”

“Well, no, but I picked up a thing or two back when I was in show business.” Chariot chuckled with a wave of her hand, in a 'no big deal’ sort of way. “Anyways, are you still planning to stay out here? Your… colleague said that you didn't really need to be patrolling.”

Croix grimaced, sourly piecing together the realization that Mark must have been responsible for giving her location away. The lousy traitor.

“Parole officer,” she corrected, looking away when Chariot raised an eyebrow at the now sullen expression on her face. “And maybe no, but I'm not exactly eager to get back in there. Posturing elites aren’t my first choice for good company.”

“Ah, you never were too impressed by fancy balls were you?” Chariot looked at her with understanding. “But still, you can't be planning to stand out here for the rest of the night?’

Croix shrugged. It didn't seem like that bad of an idea.

“Well, I was going to take a walk around. It's not every day you get to tour the country's most prestigious academy right?”

“I’m not sure if you really have permission to, actually.”

Despite the admonishment in her tone, there was an amused upturn at the corners of Chariot's mouth. Croix waved her hand with exaggerated irreverence, barely managing to conceal a grin of her own.

“It's not like I'm poking around anywhere I don't belong. Besides, who's going to stop me, security?”

Chariot did giggle at that, nudging her playfully in the arm.

“Should a paroled convict really be snooping around the esteemed Appleton's Academy for distinguished young men?”

“It’s a mild offense compared to unintended international terrorism, ”

Chariot laughed disbelievingly, the audacity of Croix's nonchalance leaving her too bewildered to even muster a disapproving reprimand.

“Oh Croix,” she murmured, eyes twinkling with exasperated affection. “Here I was thinking you’d gained just an ounce of respect for authority.”

“Hey, if I recall correctly, and I'm sure I do, I wasn't the one dragging us into trouble left and right back in our schooldays.”

“Croix, that was so long ago!” Chariot countered indignantly, and unlike Croix, she at least had the decency to look genuinely embarrassed about it. “It’s not comparable to now!”

“Yes, yes, well, haven’t you just mellowed out.” Croix exaggerated her mild taunt with a shrug of her shoulders, bearing a smirk at Chariot’s expense. “What about you then? You ought to be heading back soon, right?”

Chariot opened her mouth, then shut it, deliberating for a moments before meekly asking:

“You… ah… You wouldn’t mind if I accompanied you for a while, would you?”

Croix looked back at her, eyebrows raised.

“Really? It’s not going to be terribly exciting, I figured you’d rather be back there with…” She stopped, recalling the scores of moony young men and Chariot’s discomfort with all the attention. Okay, perhaps not. Suddenly, Croix felt herself lose the will to convince her old friend otherwise.

To her quiet relief, Chariot shook her head, gazing back at her with a hopeful little grin.

“No, not really. If anything, I’d like to hear what you’ve been up to. You could have at least written me a letter in all this time, I didn’t even know you were out of prison already.”

Croix scoffed disbelievingly and moved to walk down the hall as she did, silently acknowledging the sharper clicks of Chariot’s heels in accompaniment to her own steps as her companion fell in pace beside her.

“Letters? Really? What is this, the 18th century? If you had a phone, I might have texted you.”

“Croix, you know those aren’t allowed on campus. Especially after last year’s crisis.” Chariot chided, and after a moment’s hesitation, allowed herself to drift a few inches closer. Close enough that, should either of them had desired, they could have reached out to comfortably hold the other’s hand. Subtle as it was, the motion did not go unnoticed by Croix, who felt her heart rate quicken but chose not to comment, instead opting to respond to Chariot’s gentle scolding with continued indignation.

“Archaic, really,” she muttered, conveniently neglecting to mention that her own transgressions had likely only reinforced the faculty’s traditionalist stances. “At the very least, I should set you up with something that lets you receive email.”

“R-Really, I don’t think that’s necessary. You know I’m not great with technology.”

“Only because you’ve never bothered to try,” Croix waved her off. “I promise it’s all very simple once you give it a go.”

“You’re always so stubborn,” Chariot huffed, albeit without any real offense. “What’s wrong with writing letters the old-fashioned way? I can just ask Alcor to deliver.”

“What’s wrong is that your crow would skewer me on sight,” Croix mumbled.

“He would not!”

“Did you not see him glaring at me last time just before I left? That bird has me on a kill list.”

“Well, okay he is a little grumpy with you still, but he’s not going to _assault_ you. You looked after him when he was a baby!”

“Does he even remember that? Anyways, no, still not taking any chances. I didn’t make it this far into my research just to be murdered by your familiar.”

“Croix he would _not!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i distinctly remember shaking my head at myself when I realized just how long this fic had gotten, since it was originally intended to be a shorter oneshot, but then I simply couldn't resist drawing out the events for d r a m a


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go with ch 4! gotta say, it's one of my favs ヽ(‘ ∇‘ )ノ

Akko was, admittedly, at a bit of a loss. Because sure, okay, so maybe Croix had been a _bit_ reluctant to see Professor Ursula again, but fleeing from her on sight? That… That was a bit extreme, wasn’t it?

She’d stared, wide-eyed and slack-jawed as her former teacher quickly vanished into the crowd, and to Professor Ursula’s credit, she’d only needed a few moments to recover and pursue after her. Not quite as fast on the uptake as her mentor, Akko could only stand in place and blink for a long few seconds before she finally turned incredulously to Lotte.

“She… didn’t just run, did she?!”

Her roommate looked a bit stunned herself, equally as caught off guard by the rapid sequence of events.

“I… I think she did, actually.” Lotte looked a bit nervous now, gripping her hands tightly around her wand. “Oh no, maybe we misunderstood? This might not have been a good idea after all…”

Akko, ever the more headstrong of the two, considered the possibility briefly before shaking her head, unconvinced.

“No, I’m sure that Professor Croix did want to see Professor Ursula again! She said so! I don’t know why she’d just-!”

It was at this moment that Sucy stalked up to them, nonplussed, raising an eyebrow at the looks of bewilderment on her teammates’ faces.

“Well… I see it didn’t go as planned.”

“No, it did!” Akko proclaimed, before frowning with uncertainty. “Well… kind of, I guess.”

Sucy’s expression remained as it was.

“Kind of?”

“She just ran!” Akko exclaimed, gesturing frustratedly in the direction she’d last seen her mentor disappear toward. “I don’t know why!”

“You did just spring Professor Ursula on her, when that was precisely what she told you not to do.” Sucy muttered. Akko's frown deepened, loathe to admit that her teammate was probably not wrong, but still she resented the idea of leaving the affair as unfinished as it was. Linking her arms with her roommates, one on each side, she began to storm off after her professors, bodily dragging Lotte and Sucy behind her as they loudly began to protest.

“Akko! Where are we going?!” Lotte shrieked, stumbling awkwardly as she was pulled along, unaccustomed to the balance of her delicate ballroom heels.

“Yeah, haven't you already meddled enough tonight?” Sucy grumbled, albeit seemingly already resigned to her circumstances as she sullenly glided along.

“We can't just leave it at that!” Ignoring the emphatic groans from either side of her, Akko stalked forward with purpose, an absolutely determined look upon her face. “Come on, we have to see what's going on!”

 

* * *

 

“...Then it took a swing at me with its tail, and came pretty close to hitting, but thankfully manticores don't have great vision during the day. Didn't even leave so much a scratch, but even if it did I had the antidote on hand-”

“Croix,” Chariot interrupted, sounding quite alarmed. “I… I know you said that treated manticore venom has curative properties, but couldn’t you have just purchased some from an apothecary?”

“The texts say it’s more effective the earlier you isolate the necessary compounds,” Croix answered matter-of-factly. “And no need to worry, before you ask, the process wasn’t fatal to the manticore.”

“T-That’s not what I…” Chariot sighed, biting her bottom lip as she regarded her companion anxiously. “I… know it's important for your research, but isn’t it… dangerous?”

“Well, in this case I didn’t completely have a choice in the matter. I was actually sent there by the Ministry.” Croix paused briefly to inspect the engraving above a nearby door before continuing with her explanation. “There’s been a population boom of magical creatures in the past few months, and it was causing some trouble for the locals in that region. Enough to warrant outside intervention, at any rate. Since I had to go anyway, I figured I might as well kill two cockatrice with one stone.”

“I… see, but why send you? I don’t know much about the terms of parole in East Mogiana, but surely this should be something for trained members of the Ministry to deal with?”

“You should take a look at headquarters,” Croix grumbled. “They’ve been a right mess ever since the revival of Yggdrasil. The number of magic-related incidents across the globe are skyrocketing, and they’re already stretched thin trying to cover what they can. This is probably why they’ve been so lax with me so far, not to mention how they went out of their way to downplay my crimes to the non-magical governments.The conditions of my parole are a bit modified, admittedly; they’d rather put my abilities to use than have me wasting away in prison for decades.”

“And I suppose you’ve been taking advantage of your loose regulations to test the limits of your parole officer’s sanity.” Chariot raised an eyebrow when Croix coughed and mustered the most innocent look she could manage.

“Now what gave you that impression?”

“I only needed to speak to him for ten seconds.”

It was still only for a moment that Chariot could maintain her mildly disapproving frown before it melted back into a wry grin, reaching up to pull playfully at Croix’s cheek.

“I know you must find it so irresistibly amusing to make his life difficult,” Chariot commented, giggling when Croix responded to her affectionate pinch with an undignified grunt of surprise. “But you know he could send you back behind bars with a single unflattering report to administration.”

“He won’t, I’m too useful to his bosses.” Croix muttered, rubbing the cheek that had been so ungraciously assaulted. “And technically, I haven’t done a single thing to actually violate the list of terms. Unless he wants to tell the higher ups that I should be sent back to prison on account of hurting his feelings.”

Croix stopped walking, contemplative for a moment, then pulled up her right sleeve with a grimace, exposing a dark band of symbols on her wrist. They looked as if they’d been tattooed into her skin.

“Besides, him and the Ministry don’t really have much reason to worry about me going rogue. They can look up my location whenever and track my mana usage, restrict it if anything looks suspicious. There’s a reason why my parole officer’s not all that concerned about me wandering off right now.”

Chariot’s eyes widened as she gazed upon the seal, hesitantly reaching out to hold Croix’s wrist with one hand as she gently traced it with the other.

“They can… restrict your magic?” She asked, quietly. “With this?”

“They can do worse than that,” Croix admitted, fixated more on the motion of Chariot’s thumb brushing against her skin than the finely-inscripted sigils themselves. “But normally there’s no reason for them to restrict anything. I’d need to request permission if I wanted to cast anything that’d required an abnormally large amount of magic, but that’s about it. And it’s not like I’d need to use something like that on a day to day basis, they’re only sometimes necessary for the errands they send me on. The guy you met back there has to be with me for those anyway, so he can see for himself whether or not I look like I’m up to _nefarious_ business.”

“You said… they could do worse?” Chariot’s frown deepened when Croix looked away, mouth set in a thin line before sighing and running a hand through her curly mess of hair.

“Well, it _can_ also be activated to restrict me from lying, generally only for if they need to interrogate me.” Croix mumbled. “But there is, er, a failsafe measure, you could call it. In the event that I prove myself to be a potential threat, this can also be used to remotely knock me out.”

“O-Oh… I see…” Chariot had yet to let go of her wrist. If anything, her grip had tightened as she looked back down, one finger still gently stroking down the pattern of the imprinted brand. Her touch was careful, feather-light, and Croix felt no inclination of asking her to stop.

“Can’t be helped, everyone on parole has to have one of these,” Croix spoke as casually as she could muster, hoping it might alleviate some of the grim discomfort she could see in the dim shine of Chariot’s eyes. “And well, I am a convicted felon. They can’t be that courteous to me.”

“Yes… I know but…” Chariot exhaled quietly, with an air of sorrow. She released Croix’s wrist at last, though her gaze remained fixed on her companion’s arm as the sleeve fell to cover the seal from view.

“I guess it’s just… a reminder of everything that’s happened. And it’s not like I could ever forget, but I’ve always tried not to dwell on it so much…”

 _That made the two of them_ , Croix thought to herself, suddenly awkward at the sight of Chariot staring forlornly into the floor. She could not help but regret the direction of their conversation. Perhaps it hadn’t been such a good idea to go into the details of her situation, she should have foreseen how it might make Chariot uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, stiffly scratching the back of her neck. “You didn’t need to know all that. I didn’t intend to upset you.”

“Don’t apologize for that Croix,” Chariot admonished, her brow furrowed for emphasis. “I’m just a little worried. Well, maybe more than a little. I don’t exactly like the idea of you being sent into these dangerous situations without even having a choice about it…”

“Oh, rest assured, the manticores were an exception. It’s usually more mundane stuff, like renewing seals, analyzing data charts, that sort of thing. And hey, I even get paid for it.” The corners of her lips pulling up into a crooked grin, Croix moved to poke her companion lightly in the center of her forehead, barely suppressing a laugh at the astonished yelp it produced.

“I think you’re the one who’s taking this all too well,” Chariot grumbled, her hands instinctively having flown up to protect herself from a second attempt. Croix shrugged, one hand still raised in the air with a single finger extended before abruptly flicking Chariot’s nose, that having been left completely unguarded. This time she did chuckle out loud at the offended shriek that followed, her mirth only furthering when she caught a glimpse of Chariot’s indignant glare and bright red complexion.

“I’ve had a few months to acclimate myself,” Croix wheezed at last, when she could finally manage to stop snickering long enough to attempt words. She could hear Chariot huffing nearby, and found herself no less amused when she saw the other woman pointedly turned away from her, arms crossed in mock annoyance.

“Yes, yes, I can see you’re quite unbothered.” Given Chariot’s nature, her irritation only seemed to last for seconds before giving way to her previous melancholy, turning back to Croix with sincere concern in her eyes.

“Still… be careful, won’t you?”

“Of course. Really, I’ll be fine.” Faced with such an earnest look of worry, Croix was compelled to assuage her fears, at least as well as someone like her could. “I too prefer to keep all my limbs and organs attached as they are.”

Chariot couldn’t completely resist a chuckle at that, much to Croix’s internal delight. “A strong preference, I’d hope.”

She’d begun to walk forward again, looking back over her shoulder for Croix to follow, to which she was happy to oblige. There was a moment of quiet between them, not an uncomfortable one, wherein Croix took the opportunity to silently study Chariot’s expression, deep in thought as she appeared. Her gaze remained troubled, no doubt she was still dwelling upon the recent revelations. Croix felt the innate urge to reassure her, and wished she had the words to do so, but there was little to sugar coat about the matter. And besides, it would be condescending to downplay the gravity of it too much; Chariot wasn’t a child anymore, no longer a naive little underclassman to comfort and protect, to be shielded from hard realities.

Encountering a hallway door, Croix pushed it open absentmindedly, only to blink in astonishment when she felt a sudden change in air temperature. Torn from her thoughts, it appeared that they had wandered onto a large round balcony, the night sky now fully visible overhead and twinkling with stars. She heard Chariot gasp in wonder beside her, no doubt having been caught just as off-guard by the change in scenery.

“Where are we Croix?” She asked, tentatively walking forward, stopping near the center of the intricate circular pattern engraved into the brick floor as she gazed upwards at the bright full moon. Rendered momentarily stupefied by the sight of Chariot’s elegant figure, illuminated against the dark indigo backdrop of the evening sky, it took a second for Croix to even register that a question had been asked of her.

“Oh. Er, not sure myself, to be frank.” Putting out the light of her wand and returning it to her waist, she could hear a faint trickle of music from the building behind them. “But it doesn’t seem like we’re too far from the ballroom here.”

“Oh? I see…” There was a familiar hint of sadness in Chariot’s tone as she continued to stare at the moon, though her lips remained curved upwards in a small smile. “It’s a nice view from here, isn’t it?”

“Mhm.”

Croix moved to stand next to her, raising her own gaze towards the stars. From up on high, the cross-shaped scar of the moon glared down back at her. There was a faint twinge in her heart, as always, whenever she looked upon that brilliant pale orb hovering in the night sky, a forever reminder of her betrayal and the disaster that had ensued in its wake. It perhaps did not dig at her as deeply as it would Chariot, who held direct responsibility for carving that blemish with her own two hands. Unintentionally, and in a moment of despair perhaps, but even that Croix was sure her own abandonment had contributed to in no small part.

Uncomfortable to dwell on that particular failure, one of the first in a long line of many, Croix opted to mumble aloud the next thought that entered her mind.

“You were real popular tonight, back in there.”

Chariot jolted with a squeak of surprise, whipping her head to face Croix with a flushed look of bewildered embarrassment.

“Y-You saw!?”

“Er, here and there. A bit.” Croix muttered, holding back from admitting that she’d been observing her throughout the evening without her knowledge, not wanting for it to unsettle her further.

“O-Oh, right, I uh, yes, that was, a thing that happened a couple of times I suppose…” Chariot stuttered meekly, her hands fidgeting once again in front of her chest. Given who she was, Croix saw an excellent opportunity to cause some mischief, one which she could not resist to take advantage of.

“Uh huh.” Her grin did hold some genuine amusement, which she hoped covered up the sting of searing jealousy gnawing at the back of her mind. “Hard to miss that many schmucks swooning about with hearts in their eyes.”

“Oh come on, you’re exaggerating!” Chariot protested, then shuffled her feet uncertainly as her focus began to drift. “I-I don’t know why, I don’t think I really stand out particularly…”

Croix scoffed aloud at that. Honestly, this woman never ceased to astound her.

“Clearly, there’s many who’d think otherwise. I could venture to imagine how they tried to impress.”

With exaggerated dramatic flair, she extended her hand outward.

_“My lovely lady, might you care for a dance?”_

It was meant as an act, in mocking imitation of the many admirers she’d been subject to witness earlier in the evening. A derisive parody of their motions, her chosen method of coping with just how sorely it had cut her to watch them approach the woman whom she so deeply, and secretly, adored.

She waited for a playful rejection, for Chariot to roll her eyes and bat her hand away, ideally amused at least a little by her irreverent jesting. What Croix did not expect was for Chariot to jerk upwards with a start, as if abruptly startled out of her own thoughts. Which, might very well have been what occurred just now. Had she been spacing out?

“W-What? R-Really?” Even under the relatively dim moonlight, it was apparent that Chariot’s blush had darkened significantly. After a brief hesitation, her hand began to drift towards Croix’s still-outstretched one. “I… w-wouldn’t mind, I suppose…”

Up until now rendered dumbstruck by the rapid twist of events, Croix was startled back to life, retracting her hand without thought as she reacted in blind panic.

“W-Wait, Chariot I was just joking-”

Croix realized seconds too late what a mistake she’d made, when she saw Chariot’s hand freeze in place where it had just been about to meet her own before quickly dropping back down, as if burned. The hurt in her eyes was unmistakable as her gaze darted away in embarrassment, indubitably disappointed.

“O-Oh, I’m sorry I… I just… I should have been paying attention.” Chariot’s voice was barely above a whisper, yet Croix felt her heart tear at the palpable anguish in her words. Though bewildered that her backpedalling could have caused such an extent of grief, she was quick to try and rectify the damage she’d so carelessly caused.

“L-Look, I was kidding, but that… that’s because I never thought you’d want to… I-I mean, you’ve been turning down those guys all evening…”

Chariot remained silent for a few seconds, which to Croix might well have been an eternity for the chaos it was wreaking of her emotions. Just as she opened her mouth with the intention to try and explain herself further, Chariot lifted her head slightly and spoke first, before she could utter a single word.

“This is different Croix… you’re not one of… ‘those guys’...”

Not for the first time that night, Croix felt faint, the world seeming to blur around them, the woman in front of her the one thing that still remained in focus. One hand clutched to her chest, the other kneading her silken dress anxiously at her waist. A burst of red briefly shimmering across her long free-flowing hair, so often tied into that modest ponytail over her shoulder. Croix could feel her heart still at those words, that once more tangible _unspoken_ looming over their heads. It was evident in the way Chariot refused to look at her, rendered so vulnerable by her own uncertainty, by the confession that remained just barely clinging still to the tip of her tongue.

The revelation made her head spin, but Croix still didn’t dare to assume, too overwhelming was the fear that she might misunderstand and cause herself ever more unnecessary agony. It was hard, however, to remain purely pragmatic during such a predicament, and if Chariot were indeed baring her heart to her with utmost sincerity, it would be cruel of her not to respond genuinely in kind.

When she at last was recovered, enough at least that the world no longer felt like it was swaying beneath her feet, Croix took a deep breath and screwed her eyes shut. May the Nine give her strength for what she was about to attempt next.

“I-I apologize, let’s er, try that again, perhaps? I-If you would be willing to allow me.”

Clearing her throat, Croix took a step backward so there was some more space between them, her usual slouch giving way as she straightened her posture. A rush of blood thundering through her skull, she pulled one hand behind her back as she extended the other forward and lowered herself into a shallow bow. Then, as she was about to repeat the request she’d so thoughtlessly uttered before, a sudden surge of inspiration struck. It drew a smirk out of her, one which hopefully masked, at least to some extent, the violent jitter that had seized every single one of her nerves.

_“Puis-je vous emprunter pour cette danse mademoiselle?”_

Croix felt her grin widen as Chariot, somehow, managed to blush even more vividly than before, eyes stretched wide open as she recognized the smooth tones of her own mother tongue. Upon recovering, her hand flew up to cover her mouth as she began to laugh, quite girlishly, her shoulders shaking with mirth as she abashedly took the offered hand and responded to the bow with a curtsey of her own.

_“Oui, bien sûr.”_

It was in many ways surreal that this was happening when hours before, Croix could not have fathomed even seeing her old friend again, much less be quietly appreciating the sensation of Chariot’s warm, elegant fingers settling comfortably against her palm. Her free hand she slipped around the other woman’s back, Chariot in turn resting hers atop her shoulder.

“I didn’t think you knew how to dance,” Chariot murmured, looking up at her shyly, a soft smile upon her face.

“I’ve learned the basics, if only out of necessity.” Croix took a step forward, Chariot matching it with one step back. “I couldn’t throw out every invite, after all. Still, don’t be expecting me to keep up with anything fancy.”

“Well, you’re the one leading.” Chariot pointed out, content to follow her careful movements, set in time with the melody still drifting in faintly from the distance. “I’m more curious how long you’ll be able to last.”

“Hey my constitution isn’t _that_ awful.”

“Are you exercising daily?”

Croix looked away, indignantly.

“I fly a lot.”

“That’s not exercise, Croix.”

“It is, if manticores are involved.”

Chariot raised an eyebrow.

“I thought they were an exceptional case.”

“Just once ought to suffice for a good while, no?”

“Right. I’m sure you’ll be telling me next that you never touch those awful instant noodles anymore.”

Croix coughed and almost missed a step, barely recovering to keep in time with the rhythm.

“Would you believe me if I did?”

“Would you lie about it?” Chariot countered, a wry look upon her face when Croix sheepishly averted her eyes.

“They’re convenient okay, and I travel around a lot.” She saw Chariot sigh and shake her head in the corner of her vision.

“At this rate, sodium poisoning will catch up to you before those manticores do. At least eat some more fruit and vegetables?”

“How would I have time to…” Croix gradually tapered off upon notice of the pointed look being shot her way, finally relenting with a reluctant grumble. “Okay, fine, I’ll see what I can do.”

Chariot positively beamed at her following that concession, which only just balanced out her dismay at the thought of needing to stop by the fresh produce aisle from now on. As a consequence of that dreadful reality sinking in, Croix didn’t immediately notice the glimmer of crimson before her eyes until it had spread throughout her vision, blooming into the night like a flame as the final few strands of muted blue transitioned seamlessly back into their natural, fiery vibrance. There was a faint glow, residual magic from the illusion spell dispersing, which only made Chariot’s transformation look all the more ethereal as locks of red billowed gently in the night, carried upon the cool evening breeze.

“Croix, you’ve stopped moving.” Chariot looked in equal parts amused and embarrassed by the sight of Croix gaping at her, jaw dropped open, blinking rapidly as she snapped out of her stupor with great mortification. By the Nine, she hadn’t even realized they’d slowed to a halt, but really, how much could she be blamed for that? Who on this earth would have had the strength of will to not stop and stare at such a sight, at such a spectacle?

Croix was reminded so strongly of her friend in their days of youth, of the ceaseless energy and passion that distinguished Chariot so brilliantly in their time as students. Or, no, that was twice now that she’d made such an incorrect assessment, because Chariot had really never lost that spark, had she? It was more concealed now, yes, by age, by years of regret and melancholy, by the adoption of a quieter persona, but it made moments like these stand out all the more. This was, after all, the same woman who’d once dazzled millions, who’d made such an impossible goal out of spreading joy across the entire globe. Who’d stood down a dragon several hundred times her size, barehanded, with nothing but unwavering conviction for her principles, for redemption. Perhaps, even for love.

“...My bad. Let’s, uh, continue then, shall we?”

For once at a loss for clever remarks, Croix did her best to shake the stars out of her vision and recover as smoothly as she could. Chariot, still looking amused, seemed happy to oblige as she hummed in agreement, easily moving to match Croix’s steps with her own as they smoothly started moving to the distant music once more.

“I haven’t asked yet,” Croix ventured, unable to look away from the bright scarlet strands as they floated lightly in the wind. She could feel them tickling faintly against the hand she had rested on Chariot’s back. “Why’d you go back to blue?”

“Oh, it was only for tonight really. I wanted to draw as little attention as possible,” Chariot answered, pausing with a gasp, then a delighted giggle when Croix guided her carefully into a twirl. “There’s a lot of people here tonight and I guess I… didn’t want to be recognized.”

The laughter in her eyes dimmed and her grip on Croix’s hand tightened slightly.

“I’m not sure if I’m ready for that yet.”

“...Mm.” Croix was in the midst of wondering if there was anything she could offer beyond a general grunt of sympathy when the gravity of the world suddenly shifted ninety degrees, and she barely held herself back from shrieking as Chariot abruptly moved a hand to her back to lower her into a dip.

“Traditionally…. I believe… that I’m supposed to do that…” She wheezed breathlessly, still rattled from the shock as she glared up into Chariot’s remorselessly unapologetic grin.

“Are you sure you could have managed?”

Well. Croix supposed she had a point. Still, she frowned grumpily when Chariot pulled her back upright, the stars blurring overhead as she took a moment to reacquire her bearings.

“Sorry,” Chariot offered, not sounding particularly sorry at all. “I couldn’t resist.”

“Clearly,” Croix muttered in return, her ire quickly melting at the tender smile on Chariot’s face as the hand on her back returned to its original place on her shoulder, indicated by the slight pull on the cotton of her borrowed uniform. Croix’s disgruntled frown loosened though when she recalled the topic of their earlier discussion, before it had been so abruptly interrupted.

“Does it bother you a lot?” She asked, her tone serious. There was no trace of her usual dry wit as she looked down at her partner with a careful expression. “The thought of being recognized?”

“Mm… Well…” Chariot took a moment to ponder, her gaze flickering up towards the moon hovering above. “Not as much as it used to, I suppose. I guess that’s why I don’t bother with the illusion magic around the students. But there’s so many dignitaries tonight, and important witches, and politicians… I just…”

She exhaled heavily. “I’ve… accepted my past, more or less. But I don’t feel ready yet to tell the whole world who I am. Maybe I will again one day, I don’t know. I suppose we’ll just have to see.”

“Right…” There was a pressing question now on Croix’s mind as she listened to Chariot reflect on her feelings, intently observing all the little details of her motions and expressions. The downturn of her eyes, the melancholic frown, the way her grip had unconsciously tightened on Croix’s ministry robe. Their waltz had slowed in the course of Chariot’s musings, their feet now shifting in small steps from side to side.

“You always said that…” Croix paused as Chariot looked up at her curiously, a slight tilt to her head. “I remember you always said how you wanted to make people happy. Everyone in the world, even. But what about you?”

Chariot blinked at her, seeming confused. “About me?”

“Yes, I mean…” Croix took a deep breath and carefully considered her words. “Well, Akko found the Seven Words, and Yggdrasil has been revived. Magic has been restored to the world, and the people’s faith with it but…”

She locked her gaze with Chariot’s now. Shining back at her, a pair of earnest bright red eyes, the very same that had entered her life so long ago and never completely left her mind since, not even in all the lengthy years of loathing and separation. That she once fell in love with as a foolish teenager and now, after everything, after all the resentment and anger and petty jealousy, had somehow fallen for again, all over again.

“Are you happy?” Croix’s voice was a low murmur, not that she needed to speak any louder than that with how close Chariot was now standing to her. “Have you found what makes… _you_ … happy?”

She watched those magnificent eyes widen, mesmerized by that ever-brilliant spark dancing within, and waited as Chariot broke off her gaze to contemplate her answer. It didn’t take long, only a brief moment passing before she lightly exhaled and looked back up with a wonderful, charming smile. There was something different, in the way she stood. In the way she straightened herself.

“I have.”

The way that Chariot was looking at her now, it took her breath away. Left her barely able to muster a reply.

“Have you?”

“Yes.”

Chariot’s voice had dropped to a whisper. Croix barely even noticed how she’d brought up both hands to rest them against her collarbone, or how her own had instinctually moved to position themselves at the other woman’s waist.

“She came back to me tonight.”

Croix could feel the words just as well as she heard them, brushing against her lips. They were so close now, and everything around them may well have faded into a void, for all that Croix could be aware of. But Chariot did not move to kiss her immediately, stopping herself a tantalizing hair’s breadth away. Of course, even now, there were no limits to the extent of Chariot’s compassion; that in spite of whatever desires might have been consuming her in that moment, she would not leave Croix without the choice to deny them. To deny her. Even if it once again meant leaving herself so terribly vulnerable to rejection, to heartbreak.

With a quiet sigh released into the night, an enormous weight lifted from her soul, Croix tipped her head forward to meet her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some basic french in this one (courtesy of my friend's boyfriend) because Croix would just be That Extra
> 
> "Puis-je vous emprunter pour cette danse mademoiselle?” = care for a dance, my lady?  
> "Oui, bien sûr" = yes, of course
> 
> i'm a weakass sucker for my otps waltzing, so i was looking forward to writing this chapter for _ages_

**Author's Note:**

> this idea's been knocking about in my head for more than a year, out of a desire to write Croix being simultaneously the most petulant little shit and Dumbest Gay Of All


End file.
